


Binary pronouns are for squares

by what_a_dork_fish



Series: Gender Shmender [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Agender Character, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid Character, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Other, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, not really because it's Geralt but yeah, that I made up myself and am pleased with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: In which Jaskier tells Geralt about pronouns.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Gender Shmender [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827583
Comments: 11
Kudos: 79





	Binary pronouns are for squares

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to "Maybe the real skirts we were chasing were the ones we got for ourselves along the way".
> 
> Pronunciation guide!  
> Ano: AH-noh  
> Ano'd: AH-noh-d  
> Ano't: AH-noh-t  
> Anself: AHN-self

“Oh, by the way, I’ve decided you can just use “ano” for me instead of he or she,” Jaskier drawled, stretching her—ano legs out.

“What’s ano?” Geralt asked, trying not to look at Jaskier’s legs. Jaskier had hiked ano skirts up to take care of a scraped shin, and it always made Geralt feel odd to see Jaskier’s shapely legs covered only by a thin layer of white linen stocking. It seemed dirtier than just bare legs.

“Ano is from a dead language that used to be spoken in my home fief,” Jaskier explained. “It’s a neutral pronoun, mostly in the context of non-gendered nouns, but sometimes nouns that are all genders. The language recognizes four genders, none of which match up with “man” and “woman” that I can tell, but “ano” is for all and none. Which is a very familiar feeling. So. “Ano” is the equivalent of she or he. Ano’d is the equivalent of hers and his. Ano’t is her and him. There’s also “An”, which I’m not sure where it fits, but it must be linguistically important.”

Geralt mulled this over. All and none, hm? That certainly fit Jaskier. So… ano’d legs. Makeup that belongs to ano’t. And he should refer to Jaskier as ano. Yes. He could do that.

“Alright,” he said. “I can do that.”

Jaskier beamed at him.

~

It was hard at first, but once Geralt started thinking of those pronouns as special and unique in the same way Jaskier was, instead of just new, it was much easier. He asked, at first, if Jaskier wanted him to use “ano” in front of strangers, but Jaskier said yes without hesitation both times, so Geralt nodded and kept up his usage, and pretended not to notice the way Jaskier smiled at him when he muttered practice sentences under his breath when he almost slipped up.

Everyone they ran into was baffled, but only some were brave enough to ask, “Don’t you mean ‘he’?”

“No, I mean ano,” Geralt replied calmly each time.

He got the hang of it, and by the time winter arrived, he couldn’t refer to Jaskier as a man or a woman without it feeling wrong. Jaskier asked to come to Kaer Morhen; Geralt agreed immediately, and almost returned ano’d smile, but caught himself and looked away, muttering about needing extra supplies.

~

They were the last ones back, and Jaskier replied to Vesemir’s surprised, “Ah, didn’t expect you back this soon,” with a grin and a cheerful, “It’s been two years, of course I’m back to inflict myself on the stoic Wolves!”

Geralt shook his head at ano’t antics, but didn’t say anything.

Lambert trotted over when they entered the main hall and greeted them with a loud, “For fuck’s sake, Geralt, stop bringing women home!”

“Shut up, Lambert,” Geralt replied, but accepted a hug from his sibling before smacking them upside the head. It hadn’t been hard, shifting his view of Lambert. They didn’t look any different, and they still weren’t “out” as Jaskier called it, but there was a certain kind of relaxation to them that was nice to see.

Eskel wandered out of the kitchen, munching a raw radish, and said, “Hello. When did you get your ears pierced?”

Jaskier grinned again. “Just a few months ago,” ano replied. “Mostly because I found these and had to have them.” ‘These’ was a pair of earrings shaped like birds with cut-out bits and three blue gems each. Geralt had known they were just glass, but Jaskier liked them anyway.

“Fakes,” Lambert said, squinting at the earrings.

“Yes, but they’re pretty,” Jaskier replied.

After supplies were put away, they all gathered in the kitchen, the Witchers and their bard, and talked about the past year. Jaskier casually mentioned that ano went by different pronouns now, and the other Witchers nodded and took it in stride, Vesemir being the one to ask for the correspondences. Geralt was proud of his family.

That winter was probably the most relaxed they had ever had. Jaskier had brought some very nice woolen gloves with leather padding for everyone, and Eskel for one was absolutely delighted at the softness of the wool and imprinted texture of the leather, making it easier to grip in them. Vesemir was impressed with the very concept and muttered about human ingenuity. Lambert was just happy that theirs were a deep red instead of the dark brown of the others’ pairs.

Geralt discovered the joys of cuddling with Jaskier again; ano wasn’t as warm as Geralt, but ano was certainly more affectionate, and never questioned why Geralt was suddenly more open to an arm thrown over his waist, or legs tangling in his own. It was nice as the nights got colder and the fires had to be rationed more. And no one thought it odd for them to smell like each other, when they had to share a bed every night.

The first sleepy kiss pressed to Geralt’s cheek made him go rigid in sudden terror, but Jaskier just snuggled closer and ignored Geralt’s tension. The Witcher laid awake all night, staring at the ceiling, heart beating wildly. He was remembering all those times he’d had to catch himself before connecting the L word to Jaskier. Did… did Jaskier feel the same?

No. No, surely not. It had just been an accident. His breathing eased, although the pain in his chest only grew. Jaskier didn’t like him like that. They were just friends. He pulled Jaskier closer and tentatively nuzzled ano’d hair. Just friends.

~

“We’re not friends,” Geralt told the man flatly.

The man snorted. “Pull the other one. You’re all over him.”

“Ano’t,” Geralt corrected automatically.

“What?” the man asked, baffled.

“Ano’t, not him. Jaskier doesn’t use he and him anymore.”

The man stared at him, apparently stunned by this. Geralt felt extremely uncomfortable as the silence stretched on. Well, silence between them. Jaskier was singing and playing gaily while the patrons sang along, which felt like a gaudy backdrop to a stony moment.

“What the fuck?” the man said finally. “But—he’s a man.”

“No ano isn’t,” Geralt replied. He was in this far, he might as well buckle down. “You can ask ano’t yourself when ano’s done.”

The man’s forehead wrinkled as distress crossed his features. Then he set his chin mulishly and said, “I will,” before getting up and walking away.

Geralt’s mouth tightened, but he forced himself to take a drink around the knot in his throat. They had already had an incident where a priest had tried to convert Jaskier to “save his soul from the demons” that had caused ano’t to change ano’d gender, and before that they had been run out of town when the alderman found out about Jaskier. What if that happened again? But Jaskier was unapologetic, so Geralt followed ano’d lead.

And lately, things had been going well. There was something to be said for fame; while there was definitely suspicion, if not outright hate and aggression, there were also people who tried to be correct, and asked for specifics. Not everyone got it. But at least they were trying. Jaskier was fine with that.

Geralt watched the crowd. The man he’d been talking to was whispering to others urgently, but Geralt saw frowns of annoyance on their faces, and one woman snapped, “Everyone knows he’s not a man! _You’re_ the one being stupid, Talc.”

Geralt smirked at that.

The night ended with Talc approaching Jaskier and asking ano’t loudly if ano was a man, and Jaskier smiling and replying calmly, “Not really, no.”

“Damn it, Talc!” yelled a man who looked like he could be Talc’s brother, “Do ye _have_ to insult every musician who comes through here?!”

Mutterings of anger around the tavern, and Talc looked around, surprised, his face paling. Jaskier shrugged and said to Talc, “I’m not insulted, if it makes you feel better. Plenty of people ask. But if you’ll excuse me, I’m parched.”

“Sit with us!” someone across the tavern called. Geralt’s stomach tightened, but he told himself it was fine.

And it was. Jaskier sat with a group of locals with ano’d drink and ano’d dinner, and when ano was done everyone was shooed out, many of them saying goodbye to Jaskier and carefully avoiding pronouns when they spoke about ano’t. Geralt could see the delight on Jaskier’s face.

Finally, Jaskier and Geralt went to the inn and their room. Geralt wondered at how easily Jaskier had been accepted; ano hummed happily to anself and skipped a little.

They readied for bed together easily, and when they slid under the blanket Geralt automatically put his arm around Jaskier, who laughed softly.

“You’re so cuddly these days,” ano whispered affectionately, snuggling closer.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, because he didn’t know how to say that it was habit now, a good one that he… didn’t mind. Instead he firmed up his grip and Jaskier snickered.

And then Jaskier kissed the tip of his nose and burrowed down to fit ano’d head under his chin.

Geralt’s heart thumped harder, but he told himself it was a mistake, just a sleepy Jaskier thing, not a kiss that meant anything. It was fine.

When Jaskier was fully asleep, Geralt tentatively kissed ano’d hair, and something in his chest unraveled, letting him breathe. Maybe… maybe Jaskier wouldn’t mind? If Geralt returned the nighttime kisses? They would mean something to Geralt. They definitely would. But maybe Jaskier wouldn’t know that.

No. Ano would definitely know. And Geralt didn’t want to make things between them strange. So he wouldn’t.

The cuddles were enough. They had to be.

~

Perhaps it was an exaggeration to say they were chased out of Cintra after Geralt claimed the law of surprise, but Calanthe was definitely pissed, so they left quickly, with Jaskier teasing Geralt wickedly every day. Geralt tried to ignore it.

Jaskier bought a length of fabric and made anself a knee-length skirt to go over ano’d leggings. “For when I can’t wear a full skirt, and also because it’ll be easier to move in.”

This, of course, started a trend. Over the course of the summer and autumn, Geralt began to see upperclass men wearing short skirts too. Jaskier noticed too, and though at first it made ano’t proud, after a while ano started being sad.

“They’re making it a men’s thing,” ano told Geralt softly one night beside the fire. Ano had drawn ano’d knees up and had ano’d arms looped around ano’d legs. “I wanted it to be a bridge, but now it’s for men, and I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Geralt grunted. “Humans don’t understand things unless you hit them over the head with them,” he said flatly. “And then they get angry and stiff you because they don’t want to admit they were wrong.”

Jaskier looked at Geralt for a moment. Geralt looked back. Fuck, Jaskier was beautiful in the firelight, even if ano did look sad.

Wait. Sad?

Geralt began to frown. Why was Jaskier sad? Was it something Geralt said? Oh, it was probably the generalization. “Most humans at least,” he added.

Jaskier nodded.

There was a very uncomfortable silence, so Geralt got out his supplies and set up and started making some potions. He was running low on a few. The silence gradually became simply restful—until he realized that, usually, Jaskier would at least be humming. He finished the second potion and looked up again. Jaskier was still looking at him. “What?” Geralt asked, feeling rather self-conscious. Was it something other than the comment about humans?

“Do you like me?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt’s throat tightened and his heart sped up. Terror clawed at him. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck had he not hidden it well enough? Did Jaskier know? Was ano upset that Geralt lo—liked ano’t?

Suddenly, Jaskier began to smile. “You do,” ano said. “You _do_ like me.”

“Mm,” Geralt said, because he couldn’t say no.

“You only make that face when I catch you out. You like me!”

And then ano was scrambling to ano’d feet and Geralt barely managed to say, “Careful—!” before ano had skipped around the little alchemy setup and dropped to ano’d knees to hug Geralt tightly. Geralt couldn’t bring himself to push Jaskier away. So instead, he tentatively leaned into the embrace. Jaskier laughed and—

And kissed him smack on the mouth.

Geralt choked a little, but Jaskier only broke off to begin planting kisses all over Geralt’s face, making him dizzy with fear and… and… relief? His cheeks were warm and Jaskier was still giggling, and after a moment Geralt mumbled, “Fuck it,” grabbed Jaskier’s waist, and dragged ano’t down into his lap, giving ano’t a kiss of his own. Fuck those lips were soft on his. Jaskier moaned a little, a happy moan, and held him closer.

~

They didn’t talk about it after that. But it was there. It lingered. Every soft brush, every comfortable lean, every gentle bump, it was there, and Geralt soon lost all fear of Jaskier figuring out how deep his affection for ano’t was. Jaskier would never use it against him. Ano liked him too much for that.

Bedtime kisses continued. Soft, light kisses. On the cheeks, forehead, nose, lips. Jaskier kissed Geralt’s throat once, and Geralt hadn’t even had the urge to fight back. Ano wouldn’t hurt him.

Fuck, that was such a wonderful thing. Jaskier wouldn’t hurt him.

He’d better stop hurting Jaskier.

**Author's Note:**

> I beg of thee, pray post thy comments to me in ye box below


End file.
